


Remus Saves a Touch-Starved Sirius

by simplysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Relationship(s), Remus x Sirius, sirius x remus, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysirius/pseuds/simplysirius
Summary: His first year at Hogwarts, Sirius clings to Remus’ side, holding hands and hugging him every chance he gets. It takes Remus a while to learn why, but eventually, he figures out a way to put all of Sirius’ pieces back together.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 114





	Remus Saves a Touch-Starved Sirius

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @simplysirius for daily fics and fan art! I also take requests :)

After seven years, Remus knew exactly how to touch Sirius to make him smile, even on the days plagued with storm clouds and sullen stares. How to touch him to make his teeth clamp down on his lips, toes curling and muscles straining. How to touch him to make the tension slip from his shoulders, to ease his mind and take away the pain, whatever it may be.

But knowing Sirius wasn’t easy; learning to understand even the smallest sign, deciphering when he needed a gentle kiss or a strong hand clasped in his, required endless studying, a puzzle few had ever bothered trying to complete.

Remus noticed it the first time he sat on the train at King’s Cross, ready to see Hogwarts for the first time. Sirius sat beside him, plenty of space between them, and James on the bench opposite, each unwrapping a chocolate frog from the cart.

“Woah, cool! You got a rare card!” James cheered, leaping across the seat to look at Remus’ Golden Dumbledore. 

Sirius peered over, careful not to get too close. “That’s awesome.”

“I have a whole collection,” Remus said proudly, unveiling the book from his bag. He slid next to Sirius, flipping the cover open. “Wanna see?”

Sirius couldn’t have cared less about the cards, too focused on the way Remus’ body pressed against his, their shoulders, hips, knees, and feet touching. It was an electric shock at first, such an unfamiliar feeling numbing his body, but then he decided it was nice. It was nice to have someone next to him, to feel something other than the scrape of cotton shirts and denim jeans on his skin. When the train arrived and the boys filed off, Sirius suddenly felt cold without Remus molded beside him.

It was an easy fix, really; all he had to do was never leave Remus’ side.

During meals in the Great Hall, they would sit side by side, elbows bumping into each other as they reached for food or lifted their forks. Remus didn’t mind, and sometimes they would rough house like brothers, seeing who could nudge the other off the bench first or declaring arm wrestling matches on the table – Sirius often won, even though Remus insists that was on purpose.

They walked arm-in-arm down the hallway together between classes, James trailing along behind, rolling his eyes, thinking that Sirius just loved the attention and Remus had a bad habit of never saying no. But Remus knew better. Sirius liked having someone beside him; he liked knowing that if he held on tight enough, he wouldn’t be alone.

Wherever they went, Sirius was always hanging onto Remus or slinging his arm around James. There were things that made Sirius jump, like bright flashes in potions when someone poured the ingredients wrong, or the sound of thunder rolling in across the fjords, but with a gentle hand on the small of his back, Remus could ease his frantic heartbeat.

If Sirius was stressed, he talked with Remus. If he was happy, he smiled with Remus. If he was breathing, he was with Remus.

Second year came, and then third and fourth, and with them, subtle changes that left Remus’ skin aching for more.

What started as occasional nights in bed together, comforting each other after nightmares with slick skin and ragged breath, turned into a nightly routine. Sirius would stay in his own bed for just a few minutes, long enough for James’ snores to fill the room, before sneaking into Remus’ bed with an aloof smile.

Sleeping next to Remus was almost like curling up in his childhood room with Regulus, but Sirius no longer had to worry about fending off attacks or protecting himself. In Remus’ arms, he was safe. Even in the days leading up to the full moon, when Remus’ skin itched and his nails were sharp, Sirius held on tightly.

The first time Remus kissed Sirius, it wasn’t on the lips, nor was it a swift, reckless decision that left them both wide-eyed and breathless. It was slow and deliberate, and the moment Remus; lips left Sirius’ skin, ocean blue eyes spilled over, a wave of tears pulling Sirius into the undertow.

It was at the beginning of their fifth year, just hours after they had arrived at Hogwarts. James was holding a Quidditch team meeting down in the common room, not about to waste precious time as the newly-promoted, youngest-in-fifty-years Gryffindor captain. Remus was in the midst of organizing his books in his trunk when he heard the first hiss of pain from the bathroom.

“Sirius?” He called, trying to peer through the slit in the door.

“What?” Sirius said, turning on the sink faucet to drown out his voice, and the stifled whimper that followed.

Remus stood, approaching the bathroom cautiously, knocking on the door once before pushing it open. “Are you alright–?”

The words died on Remus’ tongue as he froze in the threshold, eyes locked on Sirius’ shoulder, the skin splattered a myriad of blue and purple and yellow in the perfect shape of a hex. When he looked at Sirius in the mirror, Sirius glanced down at the sink, cheeks tinted bright red. His t-shirt hung halfway off his body, but he was unable to lift his sore arm high enough to get it all the way on.

“Sirius…”

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius said quietly, and Remus’ stomach lurched, because if this wasn’t bad, it could have only been worse in the months since they last saw each other. “It was just…a long summer, you know? I didn’t want to get into all their pureblood bullshit and they’ve gone and brainwashed Regulus and it drives her crazy that she can’t do the same to me. That doesn’t stop her from trying, though. And I didn’t want to write to you or James because I knew you’d just spend the whole summer worrying and you deserve a break, so–”

Remus’ hand rested gently on Sirius’ good shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles on the nape of his neck. Sirius’ voice faltered before he went very, very still, his eyes flickering in the mirror as he watched Remus lean down and ghost the lightest kiss to the dark bruise, long lashes fluttering against painted skin.

Sirius inhaled sharply – not at the pain, but of the mere feeling of Remus’ soft lips brushing against his body – and released a quivering breath as Remus pressed feather-light kiss after kiss on his shoulder. It wasn’t until a choked sob ripped through Sirius’ chest did Remus stop, carefully taking Sirius into his arms and holding their bodies together.

Guiding them out of the bathroom, Remus pushed Sirius down into his bed, pulling the covers over his body before slipping in beside him.

“What do you need?” Remus whispered, brushing the hair away from his face.

Sirius shook his head, wiping his face on the back of his hand, before he thought better of it, tangling their legs together. “You. Just you.”

Remus obliged, holding Sirius as tightly as he dared. It wasn’t sly or sexy, but rather soothing and unassuming. He didn’t sleep that night, not even after Sirius’ shoulders had stopped shaking or quiet snores left his mouth, too busy drawing slow circles over his skin, warming every inch of Sirius body that was rigid with frostbite.

Later in the year, when their second kiss was firmly on the lips, without the bruises or tears, Remus could touch Sirius in new ways, healing wounds and scars with gentle lips and soft caresses. It took time to learn Sirius’ body like this, neither without much experience, bumbling around each other and nervously laughing at their clammy palms or flushed faces.

Remus took a kind of quiet pride in it; he could make Sirius feel better, but he could also make him feel things he never had before.

It took seven years to understand Sirius’ body. To know that when his lips twisted to the left, he was thinking about kissing Remus. To read the way the muscles in his back contracted, either wracked with anxiety or taut in anticipation. To learn the landscape of his hips, his chest, his neck, and know where to kiss to make him breathe Remus’ name.

On the eighth year, tangled in the sheets after the first night in their shared apartment, Sirius still soundly sleeping in the crook of his neck, Remus couldn’t help but smile, drawing invisible tattoos on Sirius’ bare skin with the pads of his fingers. There were some jagged lines, scars from hexes long since healed, memories of pranks gone awry, and there were gentle lines too, the slope of his shoulders and the curve of his spine.

Remus had finished the puzzle. Putting together all the pieces that made Sirius Black was worth it. What a beautiful picture it was.


End file.
